


You've Got Mail

by Lafayettee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafayettee/pseuds/Lafayettee
Summary: Pursuing a new friendship was something Alexander Hamilton rarely did, for he had amazing friends who helped run his very own small, cozy children's bookstore with him. Married to Maria Lewis and raising his son, Philip Hamilton, Alexander seemed to have everything. However, when Alexander meets a stranger in an online chatroom and they start to send e-mails to each other he falls into the problem of keeping his marriage intact and having to fight against a much larger business, a bigger and better bookstore moving into the streets of New York.It wasn't easy befriending an enticing stranger and keeping your business alive.-Based off the movie.Co-creators are my friends, but they don't have an AO3 account.





	1. Chapter 1

The streets were crowded by a sea of people and traffic deemed insane; such aspects made it your typical day in the bustling city of New York. A police car and ambulances blaring and car horns honking from angry drivers was what made the morning so excruciatingly annoying and whilst it gave a nuisance and headache it was that part that served as a sole reminder that the world was a big place and that was Alexander’s motivation to become the very best. He was not looking to cement his name into the world, but rather make it a safe haven for those to live, most importantly his son. Alexander Hamilton, a 24-year old man who was just finishing up university and worked a job at the local children’s bookstore was hand-in-hand with his 8-year old son to that very job. It wasn’t ideal to Alexander and he much preferred to work in a regular library full of classics but the children’s bookstore was Philip’s favorite place and Alexander took it upon himself that Philip would never get into reading and writing when he was reading Shakespeare’s words he couldn’t understand, but rather learn morals through fables about how the tortoise beat the hare. In this time Philip did, in fact, pick up poetry and, without Philip’s permission, Alexander would read his child’s writing. A tragedy was what spoke to Alexander and it’s a part of why he loves classics in the first place; people had a knack for misery and delved into the world of multiple people’s stories of their own tragedies. Philip just so happened to write of tragedy as well, though not romantic in the sense of Romeo and Juliet or people going crazy such as Macbeth. He wrote often of his mother that he did not know nor has ever seen and it pained Alexander a bit every day, but the deal was sealed between the two and it ended up with Philip in Alexander’s arms. At least it wasn’t unplanned and that was what kept Alexander from feeling bad about bringing Philip into the world. It consisted of two people being young and establishing some sort of agreement that they would be together forever and Alexander was perfectly content with that until a night on the sandy beach, cuddled up on a picnic blanket at around 8 P.M. she giggled and said in an excited tone:

“I wouldn’t mind a little Alex runnin’ around.”

Alexander, being only 18 and in love, panicked for a bit before looking down at her and kissing her forehead saying he wouldn’t mind either. That led to one very awkward night a few months after that conversation where they were both seated on Alexander’s bed where instead of heated and rushed kisses and hands everywhere, they took it painfully slow rushing for not entirely their personal pleasure but for the intimacy and love they shared. They smiled at each other at the end of that night, panting and giggling at each other as the two young lovebirds always did and all Alexander remembered other than the soft skin was whispering to himself:

“I’m going to be a father…”

January 22, 2003, comes around and after many tears and smiles, Alexander realizes that 15 minutes of pleasure can give you 18 years, or more were they not pursuing anything, of love and hell. He realizes that the very woman he had done it with had felt the same and after many nights of fighting and alcohol they decided that Alexander would keep his son, for he was financially stable when living with the Washingtons and also that Alexander was fighting through blood, sweat, and tears anyway.

Alexander shook those thoughts of his head when Philip tugged the hem of his sleeve.

 “We’re here, pops.”, Philip said in his giddy tone.

Alexander pulled a chain that consisted 5 keys before finding the one to open the bookstore. He owned the bookstore along with his 5 friends and it was 2 hours before it initially opened but he felt that there ought to be tidying up. Alexander looks down at his watch: 6:03 A.M. He shrugged and let go of Philip’s hand to open the door. The door opened and a waft of a cheap vanilla bean scent engulfed their nostrils and the nostalgia and somewhat dusty smell of the hardcover books mixed in as well. Flicking the light switch, the lights turned on around the 1 room bookstore revealing it. Walking into the room, a desk was immediately on the left side and the mat on the right where children sat to read and finally the 6 bookshelves that held the hardcover books and 4 racks that held the paperback books and few magazines. Alexander smiled at the familiar sight; he had owned the shop for 4 years and practically poured his life savings into the shop and having it been a success was the prime of his life. He worked alongside his 5 friends, their names being on the nametags that sat next to the cashier at the check-out desk. 5 name tags with each one having the name engraved:

_Hercules Mulligan_

_Gilbert / Lafayette_

_John Laurens_

_Aaron Burr_

_Angie Schuyler_

Alexander smiled at the name tags as Philip plopped himself on to the tall bar stool where Hercules usually sat to do check-outs for books. Alexander took a glance at Philip who was reading a book of Aesop’s fables and smiled at the sight of a focus and peaceful sight of his son. He turned back to his work where he was simply dusting the shelves and desk. The only sounds that filled the often loud bookstore were the sound of Alexander’s dress shoes clacking against the pine flooring and the occasional flip of a book page by Philip. He would hum a tune as he dusted and soon enough the bookstore was cleaned up almost entirely. The opening of a door and a loud bell snapped Alexander and Philip out of their focus. Snapping their heads to the front door in almost anger from being interrupted by their trance, their glower immediately disappeared as they noticed Alexander’s co-workers trickle in, laughing as they held and banged their flasks together. They each had a satchel, custom made by Hercules and Alexander held his close when they all walked in. Each man headed to the desk and grabbed their name tags, pinning it to either the right or left breast of their shirts.

“Morning, Philly Cheesesteak! And ‘sup Alex.”, Hercules said through a fit of laughter.

“I told you not to call me that, uncle Herc!”, Philip nearly yelled. His son tried to seem angry but he couldn’t help shaking his head at Philip’s toothy grin following after.

“Good morning, Philip. Alex.”, John and Lafayette said in an almost perfect unison.

Hercules took a remote from the desk as he turned on their air conditioner, mumbling a few curse words from the hotness of the shop, not to mention the compactness for the shop was small, though that was what gave it is coziness.

 “Morning, a-holes. It’s thirty minutes before opening so set yourselves up, will ya?”, Alexander yelled as he walked to the desk and put the duster in one of the drawers with their cleaning products. A few laughs and ‘of course’ came from the trio as Hercules walked to the back of the desk and sat on the stool, grabbing a small key to unlock the cash register. Alexander and Hercules made small talk, asking each other for their morning and anything new. Alexander wiped the counter with Clorox wipes before his face flushed a bit.

“Speaking of last night, I got ‘nother e-mail.”, Alexander whispered to Hercules and turned to John and Lafayette to see if they were paying attention. He sighed in relief as he saw his two friends laughing out loud and organizing the racks of paperbacks and magazines. Alexander looks back to Hercules in a flushed face as Hercules gave a smirk and crossed his arms.

“Is it from that so-called, hot, anonymous man you found in that _one_ chatroom?”, Hercules teased.

Alexander fumed a bit, “Listen, I don’t even know if he’s hot!”

Hercules asked, “Ah, what was his name again? Hm?”

Alexander looked at him wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted from surprise before his expression to that of an angry one.

 “I don’t… know. Yet!” , he almost yelled.

Hercules barked a laugher at Alexander before staring at him seriously. Alexander gulped, now worried.

“Seriously, ‘Lex. What if this guy is just some weird stranger? He might hurt you if you were to meet him that is. Not only that but…”, Hercules paused and frowned.

“But what?”, Alexander challenged.

“You’re _married_.”, Hercules emphasized.

Alexander was about to argue with Hercules, explaining this is a mere friendship when he suddenly thought of the fact that he was _married_. He was married to Maria Lewis, or Maria Hamilton now. His friends, especially Angelica, disapproved of their marriage greatly and whilst Alexander denied the fact that it was a bad relationship, he couldn’t help but think it was definitely a loveless marriage. It was a marriage that was failing, however, it didn’t seem to bother the two. In fact, often times at the apartment they shared, it was very fun binging on movies and the occasional sex. It would be more of a friendly relationship at best, minus the sex. Yet, even now, Alexander still somehow convinces himself to say that he loves her, _romantically_. Alexander did not see the problem with the person he was speaking of either, the man had mentioned that he was happily married as well and the two agreed on pursuing nothing more than a mere friendship. It was fresh air for the both of them, having someone to lean on in times of stress and talk about it without being thoroughly judged. All those thoughts and future arguments were dropped as Angelica burst through the door. Without a greeting, she yelled through the shop.

“Five minutes before opening!”, she yelled and then in a lighter tone, “Good morning, Philip.”, then looked back at her friends, “Guys.”

“Girl.”, the four men said in unison.

Angelica rolled her eyes before clipping her name tag on her long-sleeved shirt. Alexander smiled at his friends as they walked and talked around the shop and tidying it up a bit more to their personal liking. He walked outside to flip the sign from ‘CLOSED’ to ‘OPEN’. The small plants that surrounded the outside of the store shined a beautiful green color and even more so when Alexander watered them. He watered the orchards that hung from the posts and some of the mini succulents they owned. The shop was more than cozy; it had felt like a home. If Alexander could place a bed, fridge, and shower it would’ve been a perfect hideout for writing and reading. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him as he remembered that he did have a _place to stay_.

 “Mr. Alex!”, a cheery voice called out.

“Theodosia! And Mrs. Burr, how do you do?”, Alexander called back as he walked towards the couple in a Cheshire cat-like grin.

“Alexander, Burr sends his regards. I'm sorry he couldn't make it in today, he's caught the flue. And ‘M doing fine, thank you. We’re here for Philip?”, Theodosia beamed.

Alexander thought Theodosia was beautiful. Her skin glowed and she looked young, especially with the lack of wrinkles. Make-up only touched up her features and he knew why Burr fell so deeply in love. She was a beautiful, young-looking woman for someone in her 30s and her soft personality only added to the package. Snapping out of his thoughts, his eyes widened.

“Tell Burr that it's fine. Oh, right. Sorry!”, Alexander almost yelled.

He ran into the shop, the loud bell ringing in his ears as he searched for Philip.

“Phil, ya late! Theo is here for you.”

“Alright, Pops!”, Philip acknowledged.

Philip took his small backpack from the back of the check-out desk and proceeded to run out through the door. He smiled at the Theodosias and gave a quick peck to his father’s lips and muttered an ‘I love you’ to him before grabbing Mrs. Theodosia’s free hand and walked with her through the busy streets of New York. Alexander walked back into the shop and a few minutes later kids who didn’t have school buzzed in, as well as those who skipped. Parents trickled in as well, all of them talking with each other and gushing of how cute their kids were and embarrassing stories. Each of the staff members greeted each of them with a huge genuine smile, reading to the children and helping them pick out their books. Alexander helped Hercules tend to the cashier for the shop was soon packed with loud kids and concerned parents. He grabbed cash and pulled out cash and many quarters and dimes as the coins clanked against each other and bills making shuffling sounds. Muttering ‘thank yous’ and ‘come again!’ and smiling to customers. The best part of the job was that children got into reading books _because of_ Alexander’s shop in the neighborhood. It was because of the small shop in the city that Alexander and his friends shared their knowledge and interesting books that kids would learn how to transport into another world just by pure imagination and words that tangled together correctly and meaningfully. The job was 8 hours, opening from 8:00 A.M. to 3:30 P.M. every day with the exception of Sunday which was their break before returning. The day went on slowly until their shift ended. The boys and Angie walked their separate paths, seeing each other off and Alexander walked back to his very own apartment. He trudged up the steps before unlocking the door with his own personal key. An aroma of salts and cinnamon lingered throughout the small apartment as well as the hazelnut, rich, and black coffee lingered. Alexander smiled. The apartment was fairly small, once he had walked in it was the dining table and just on the very right of said table was a small couch and television screen that sat on a drawer, a border being the wooden coffee table. Right in front of the dining table was the kitchen. An oven, dishwasher and sink, drawers and a silver fridge and small marble countertop where fruits, bread, sauces, and condiments laid upon the counter. He smiled at the familiarity of it and smiled more so when he felt warm arms snaked around his hips to be hugged from behind. Alexander felt her the side of her face pressed up against his back, feeling the massive curls just ghosting over the back of his neck 

“’Ria…”, Alexander whispered.

“Welcome home, baby.”, his wife, Maria said and giggled after. Alexander turned to face her, looking down ever so slightly and kissed her on the cheek sweetly. Here and now, Alexander realized how much he loved his wife. He hugged her closely for a few seconds.

 “As much as I appreciate you and just want to love you _all night_ ,”, Alexander giggled, “I need to check my e-mails real quick and draft a budgeting plan for our shop.”

Maria had a small smile on her face, her eyes darkening slightly. She sneaked out of Alexander’s embrace and headed to their bedroom, explaining that she would be reading and closed the door to their bedroom. Alexander sighed and went to the guest bedroom, which has been turned into a mini office for him. He walked in, stacks of paper that sat on his mahogany desk and two bookshelves and office chair behind his desk, full of classics and poetry books. Alexander heard Philip come through the door as he said goodbye to the Theodosias and texted Theodosia a quick thanks for dropping Philip off. Philip came into his office and talked about what he did in school before he kissed his father goodnight and slipped into the bedroom as well, where he always slept in the middle of Alexander and Maria. He heard the giggles of his wife and child through the bedroom and Alexander smirked before shutting the door to his office. It was dark until he turned on a lamp that sat to the right of his desk, slumping into his chair trying to get comfy. A laptop laid on the desk where stacks of paper stood in front and a singular small mug that held his ballpoint pens and highlighters. Underneath his laptop laid a flat, wall calendar with many days circled and small notes under it. Dates for when he would go out drinking with his friends, birthdays, and dinners planned with Maria and Philip. He opened his laptop and turned it on and typed in his password. Immediately, he went to his e-mail account. A plain and simple Google email for personal use rather than work. He navigated through a few e-mails from friends before finding the e-mail he had looked for. A smile danced on his phone as he noticed a reply had been given. Alexander knew the man lived in New York; the timing was impeccable and only proved him right when he asked. Once more, the idea of meeting this mystery man dangled in his mind. It wasn’t that they couldn’t, it seemed as if they were hesitant. More so, Alexander felt scared, but the man was so genuine it was almost scary and he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned up to be a façade, hiding a murderer. He shivered at the thought, yet it didn’t stop him from reading the e-mail as he cheerily clicked on it. Alexander would always laugh at their e-mail names, but for the sake of privacy, he didn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

**Weirdow’s Wine <[ny.macaroni567@gmail.com](mailto:ny.macaroni567@gmail.com)>**

_To ADot Ham <[n3viswrit3r@gmail.com](mailto:n3viswrit3r@gmail.com)>_

My very dear friend, Adot Ham, this letter (e-mail) would not have delivered to you until I shall have first terminated my earthly career. I laugh as I write this and it reminds me of the comfort of writing as if we were in the 1700s. Best of friends, and best of men, unless you are a woman. I trust you that you are a male. In this very letter, I would love to tell you of my dog: Macaroni. Macaroni is my dog who also find beauty in the streets of New York, often we wander helplessly and drown in the dim lights of the street lights that hang over. She loves pizza bits and hot dogs off the street, though I have more than enough to buy her as much as she wants. Interested in sports and great in it, she still chooses to stay at home and sleep on the green, plush dog bed that I have bought for her. With Fall around the corner, she is sure to be lazier than she is. 

Don’t you love New York in the Fall? It feels as if the warmth of the sun pegs us city people to stay in for once, not giving a care for work. Knowing you are a writer, I hope you send me a few of your works for I am sure you are to write many this season. Bouquets of pencils and erasers may have been sent your way, had I known your name and address. A shame, very. 

Though, don’t feel pressured. I find not knowing having its very own charms.

The night is settling in and now I bid you adieu and hope you sleep well. You have told me often you do not experience dreams, and I am praying that you experience one tonight, as always. 

Yours,

T.

* * *

Alexander snorted at the formal e-mail, though he loved when they would talk like this. No spelling errors or slang words were used which made Alexander felt serious and genuine about their friendship. He thought of what to send and then proceeded to type a response. 

* * *

 

**ADot Ham <[n3viswrit3r@gmail.com](mailto:n3viswrit3r@gmail.com)>**

_To Weirdow’s Wine <[ny.macaroni567@gmail.com](mailto:ny.macaroni567@gmail.com)>_

T, every day I am excited to receive an e-mail. Striking conversations with you have always been a pleasure of mine and judging by your name having wine in it, perhaps when we finally do meet we will wine and dine and talk of experiences in New York. I came home and greeted my lovely wife and child with my heart full of love and felt my heart grow bigger as I realized you have sent another one of your ‘letters’. Do not worry, I am a full-grown male! There is no point of lying and that is the beauty I find in this friendship we have pursued; the anonymity and lack of judgment. I have told you the truth and only the truth, for I trust and respect you dearly. As for Macaroni, your dog seems the sweetest and even though I am at risk of being arrested, I will drop my food bits nearby hot dog carts and pizza carts. Your dog seems lovely and I cannot help but feel as if I should have an addition to the family as well, a more furry one. With my condition though, it may be impossible.

Fall is in the corner, and I had forgotten about the seasons almost entirely; thank you for the reminder. I will be sure to send you some works of mine for lately my life had felt cozy and warm and I feel as if expression should be through the stories I am writing. I am thinking of writing my story based on our conversations, the plot line is how two friends meet through an anonymous chatroom such as our very own. Permission granted? Though, I understand if you do not want a story such as ours partially released. 

I want to keep our relationship a secret as well.

A bouquet sounds charming. Give me time to think if I would like one!

Greatest sleep, and dreams. Best of friends and best of men as well. Your wife is a very lucky woman, having a marriage with a fine man and my friend such as yourself.

Yours,

A.

* * *

 

Alexander rested his head on the palm of his hand as the screen indicated that the e-mail was sent. He shut the laptop closed and drafted his budget plan he initially planned to do until he fell asleep. Shower and dinner could wait were all Alexander thought of before passing out. He swore he heard the sound of a bell coming from his phone, indicating that an e-mail had been received. Alexander passed it to be one of his friends and ignored it, falling into sleep.


	2. Stirring a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and Maria have their own issues and Alexander goes to his friend for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk kinda bad chappy

A puddle of drool stuck to Alexander’s right cheek as he sat up when he had a coughing fit. Abruptly awoken, Alexander groaned as his face was in his hands. His eyes twitched in annoyance. Pulling the laptop lid up, his eyes scrunched up in pain as the bright light suddenly glared into his own eyes. The room was dark and Alexander wondered if Maria came in earlier and turned the light off to preserve power. The apartment was awfully quiet despite being 5:26 A.M. as Alexander checked the time. Usually, Philip would have awoken and excitedly banging on Alexander’s office door, yelling at him to get ready. Though the familiar voice of his son was nowhere to be heard and Alexander fell into a slightly panicked state. He stood up and shut the laptop. E-mails could always be checked later. Barging through the door, Alexander peered into the kitchen before fully walking into it. The dim lights that hung right above the dinner table and marble countertop were turned on and Alexander recognized the yellow sticky note laying right on top of the countertop. He grabbed it harshly and scanned the note immediately.

_Gas station for slushies. Gettin’ your usual and Phil’s._

Alexander felt slightly relieved and threw the sticky note into the trash bin. He smiled at the thought of getting a slushy, despite it being so early in the morning. He figured it would’ve been a better source of energy as he thought if the reason why coffee was not working was that his petite frame adapted to it. The panic didn’t settle completely, for the thought of how long they had exactly been out, but Alexander trusted his wife. He checked the time on his phone. 5:30 A.M., it read. Alexander figured he would take a shower and make breakfast for once. Smiling to himself in pride, he marched towards the bathroom and took his clothes off in the process. Though just as he was about to put his phone down and even get to the first article of clothing, his phone dropped harshly to the ground and Alexander groaned, knowing that it may have cracked the screen against the floor. Yet, his body stilled as it wasn’t a mere accident or the usual clumsiness Alexander had laced with his body. His eyes widened and his mouth agape, Alexander didn’t dare move. Feet stuck to the ground, the gears in Alexander’s brain felt as if they were getting clogged and the only thing Alexander registered was _thunder_. More specifically, the almost ear-deafening thunderbolt that cracked just outside the window in the living room.

 _Since when had it been raining?_ , Alexander pondered.

He ran towards the living room and stared at the clear, pane that stood to the left of the couch. Alexander immediately put his arms around himself and felt a shiver run up his spine as he saw the thunderbolts flash a bright white and it reflected in his brown eyes as well as the heavy rain that played like a loud drum against his window and the apartment building itself.

“No… _no_... no….”, Alexander whispered, coming out with a whimper.

As another thunderbolt cracked, Alexander slightly shrieked and back into the hallway where the bedrooms and kitchen met and slumped down until he was sitting on the floor. It was cold against his feet and it didn’t help that the cold of the wall stuck to his back as if icicles started to grow off of him. He put his face to his knees as he cried excessively, whimpers coming out as he held his face to his knees, clinging to himself in need of support. Alexander’s lips were chapped and even the excessive crying that he has done it didn’t help. The saltiness of his tears could be tasted and his nose started to run as well. It had felt disgusting, having his own fluids. Alexander couldn’t help it. He stayed like that for a few minutes, the loud whimpers lowering down but the tears didn’t stop streaming.

 If there was a competition for the loudest sound in the world, nothing could beat the vigorous scream that was ripped out of Alexander’s lungs when the only light sources were shut out. He grabbed his hair in a fierce manner as he started to hyperventilate, his air puffing out violently as he tried to maintain the oxygen flow, making his throat go dry.

 The rain had died down a bit as a mere 30 minutes went by and Alexander didn’t calm down one bit. It was when the thunderbolts stopped cracking through his ears in a piercing manner when Alexander maintained his breathing only the slightest, though his eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the gargantuan amount of tears. It was when the storms died down and Alexander could almost feel as if he wasn’t in his own skin. 

“Alexander!”, a voice yelled as the door banged against the wall from the force. Alexander didn’t bother to look, couldn’t even register his name being called as his ragged breaths was all he could decipher. The cracks and heavy pouring of the raindrops were all Alexander could hear, the sounds ringing through his airs as it became more prominent by the second. Maria slammed her hand down in almost her full strength as she looked at Alexander with tears in her eyes, worry glazing over her brown eyes and gripping Philip’s hand. Behind them was a spilled cherry slushy and holding Maria’s right hand was Philip shaking as he almost felt as if he were to drop his own blueberry slushy. Alexander stared at Maria for a few seconds as he was still in shock before being pulled up by Maria. He stared at her and let his gaze linger, his mouth still agape. Maria had tears at the corners of her eyes, but not quite crying.

“Ale-“

“You fucking left me!”, Alexander yelled through the now quiet apartment. Philip dropped his blueberry slushy in his hands and started to cry loudly. Maria ignored Alexander as she quickly tended to Philip, picking him up in her arms and cradled him, patting his back as he threw a coughing fit and whispering sweet nothings into his small ears.

“Alexander, not around Philip.”, Maria whispered back. Before Alexander could protest, she shoved him back into the same wall where he had his back to and settled him into their bed and pulled the mini blanket over him before going back outside and shutting the door.

Before Maria could open her mouth, Alexander held himself in his arms once again as he glowered at Maria.

“How could you fucking leave me? In a _storm_! When you know that I’m afr-“, Alexander yelled but didn’t finish his sentence. Even with his wife, he didn’t want to seem vulnerable. Maria tried to step closer as Alexander backed away further before being stopped by the door of his office.

“Alexander, I was getting your favorite slushy. I didn’t know ther-“, Maria pleaded but Alexander couldn’t hear the rest of her excuses as he rushed to opened his office door and slammed it, locking it and slid down to the door. In the darkness of his office, Alexander cried once more into his knees before standing up to sit before his laptop. He harshly pulled the lid up and typed in his password, banging each key. He quickly typed into the search engine ‘gmail’ and having been logged in already, he briskly clicked on the ‘Compose’ button.

* * *

**ADot Ham <** [ **n3viswrit3r@gmail.com** ](mailto:n3viswrit3r@gmail.com) **>**

_To Weirdow’s Wine <_ [ _ny.macaroni567@gmail.com_ ](mailto:ny.macaroni567@gmail.com) _>_

_SOS_

_-A_

* * *

 

Alexander threw any sense of formalities of their usual conversations out the window as he laid back into his chair, seeking comfort in it. It was awfully cold and Alexander couldn’t remember the last time he slept in the warmth of the bed he shared with Maria and his son. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of the newly found love he shared with Maria. Raking his hands through his brown locks, he brought his hands to his face as he put his head down on the keyboard of the laptop, whining a bit before crying once more. 

* * *

 

“It’s awfully cold, don’t ya think?”, the gentle voice came through the large living room. She sat on his lap and Thomas wrapped his hands around her waist. He had worry and concern written across his face and she noticed.

“What’s in that beautiful mind of yours, love?”, She whispered as she caressed his cheek

 _A_. But he couldn’t say that.

“Nothing, angel. Just worried about some friends. You know how James is in these kinds of situations.”, Thomas explained. Macaroni ran up to the couple and laid on the right side of Thomas’s thigh. Thomas shrugged and smiled, pulling an arm away from his wife’s waist as he ruffled the fur on top of Macaroni’s head. He wondered of A and hoped he had been alright. Whilst he doesn’t know what exactly brought on the phobia, he knew he wouldn’t be calm and collected on a stormy morning. The storm died down awfully early at 6:10 A.M., lasting for a mere 30 minutes or more, had Thomas kept track of the time.

“Tommy, James would be fine. Now, bedroom? Please?”, she had a beaming smile on and her eyes glazed in a somewhat sad tone, an attempt at ‘puppy eyes’ if you will. Thomas grinned at his wife: Sally Jefferson (née Hemmings). He followed her as she walked backward, holding Thomas’ hands in her own and she stared at him, her eyes going dark as her lips curled into a smirk. Thomas gazed back, licking his lips as he forcefully shut the door with one hand before crashing his lips into his wife and laid her back on the bed. His legs settled between her spread knees, she looked helpless beneath, her arms moving to her sides as she gripped the bed sheets. Thomas took off his shirt painfully slowly and Sally tracked his every move as he took it off in a sultry manner and threw it, sending it flying to the top of the drawer.

“You’re beautiful.”, Thomas muttered. Sally giggled and she looked at Thomas lovingly.

“C’mere…”, Sally said. Thomas shredded her clothes off in no time as well as his own sweatpants. The sweat came down in beads on his forehead and entire body as he played with Sally a bit, gripping her hips in a rough manner and feeling her smooth, light-brown skin against his calloused hands. A ragged breath came from her and she panted slightly from the growing pressure of Thomas' hands. It must’ve been the heat in the atmosphere and nearly choked him that made his thoughts hazy, but he was glad Sally didn’t hear it. He dragged her panties down and his own boxers that released his shaft. He coated himself with the small lubricant packet, having struggled with the bottle a bit. Even in this almost drunk state, Thomas pushed in ever so slowly and gently. A loud moan came out from Sally, and in the midst of that moan Thomas muttered under his breath 

“A.”

It was when he pulled her closer by the waist to his own that Thomas felt somewhat relaxed. Sally had her arm over Thomas’s chest as she hugged him in her sleep. Thomas stared at the mirror that was right in front of their king-sized bed, a huge one that mirrored the entire bed and two night stands at was seated, each one at the side of the bed they shared. Thomas felt tired from the sex he just had with his wife, despite not having his release. Whilst his wife was in a blissful paradise from her orgasm, Thomas was just glad to pull out. Guilt panged his heart as well as a blush creeping onto his cheekbones from muttering A’s name. He grumbled as he slowly picked up his wife’s forearm and laid it gently on a pillow. He slipped into the kitchen and sat on one of the stools, resting his elbows on the countertop before checking his phone to check his e-mails regarding his work. However, he was surprised when he saw one from A at 6:23 A.M. There was no subject and when he opened his e-mail he immediately dropped his phone onto the countertop before rereading it once more.

 _SOS_.

 Thomas gripped his phone even tighter as he realized it was 6:50 A.M. He had been late.

“Fuck.”, he said in a hushed tone.” 

* * *

 

Alexander knew he was over-reactive. It wasn’t that he had high blood pressure or even a short temper, and maybe it was the secret narcissistic part of his mind that took over in times of arguments or work, but he knew that people just had to know their place. Common sense is arguably _not_ common, Alexander always thought and he never knew it applied to his _wife_. Maria was smart, sure, and maybe he shouldn’t be thinking his wife was dumb. No, it was unreasonable to think such a thought, yet here Alexander was in the moment. Sitting in his office chair staring at his laptop screen as he saw that his e-mail had been sent to T, or by his e-mail alias, _Weirdow’s Wine_. Why T would have an odd name was a mystery to Alexander even until now and he didn’t notice how bizarre it was until he started to stare at the e-mail he sent. He searched up what weirdow meant in the first place, for it wasn’t in the 3 dictionaries he searched through that laid on his bookshelf. Lo and behold, UrbanDictionary comes to the rescue,

“ _Weirdow: a woman who, after becoming widowed begins to act out in[ **strange**](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=strange) and [ **peculiar**](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=peculiar) [ **ways**](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ways) that are unexpected, peculiar and unexplained.”_

 Or so, it reads. Alexander assumed he was a widow of some sorts, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. Chuckling at the thought, Alexander reminded himself of the irony that was laced with that sentence. Anonymous, judgment-free, yet Alexander couldn’t ask the questions he wanted to. It was when Alexander saw a reply to his e-mail that he jumped in his chair and lunged forward, his brown eyes mere inches from the screen. When he groaned from the close bright light he laid back once more. His eyesight was already ruined, why would he ruin it over some internet stranger? Alexander cursed a few words under his breath and roughly opened the small drawer on his right that had his glasses inside. He grabbed it and put it on his eyes, adjusting it to lay comfortably on the bridge of his nose. Now, Alexander was always laughing at the formality of how T would send his e-mails and he played along with it. His shocked face, however, couldn’t make out the words to describe how he was feeling when he read T’s response.

* * *

 

 **Weirdow’s Wine** <[ny.macaroni567@gmail.com](mailto:ny.macaroni567@gmail.com)>

 _to ADot Ham_ <[n3viswrit3r@gmail.com](mailto:n3viswrit3r@gmail.com)>

 

what wrogn

  

Sent from my iPhone

* * *

 

Alexander was practically foaming at his mouth as if he an enraged raccoon, and even in the midst of his anger, he compared himself to a raccoon. Small and stout, dark rings around their small beady eyes, and easily angered sometimes. He held a blank face before shaking his head and returning to the anger that bubbled within as he read the e-mail. Alexander thought the worst part was seeing _Sent from my iPhone_ because even Alexander always removed that part when sending an e-mail from his phone, thinking it’s decent in doing so. To have it remain there feels somewhat rude and disrespectful. He scowled as he realized it was now 7:04 A.M. and he chose to ignore the e-mail, getting up from his chair for the first time before he broke down in his office. He felt his back starting to hurt and so he stretched for a bit before going outside. Maria was nowhere to be found he presumed she went to work as well as Philip who wasn’t in the bed. Maria had probably walked him to school and Alexander loved his son but he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing him at the moment when he was stirring up a storm in his head. Alexander waltzed into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, proceeding into the shower. He took a quick, cold shower for he didn’t want to waste time heading to work. It was a Sunday, he bleakly remembered, however, he thought he could go to the bookstore and order books as well as do an actual clean-up of the shop. God knows the grime and dust that has been collected behind the shelves and in the air conditioner. He shivered at the thought in the shower. When Alexander was done washing the grease out of his hair and the sweat off his tan body, he draped a towel over his groin and walked to his bedroom for clothes. He pushed the door open and briskly walked over to his dresser and found a pair of denim jeans that fight tightly over his frame and a white button up that was covered by a simple, black, handmade hoodie from Hercules as a birthday gift. Alexander smiled, reminiscing at the memory of when he received it. Putting his underwear on, followed by his boxers, shirt, and hoodie, he checked his hair in the mirror. Despite it being wet, he brushed it lightly and shoved the comb into his satchel in case and left for work.

Even in the bustling streets of New York, Alexander never managed to get lost. Always finding his way into the small shop of his surrounded by tall, large skyscrapers and through long, crowded places of coffee shops and cafés was an easy task. Before however, especially during the week of opening, he often got lost despite it being _his_ shop.

 _Schuyler’s Shop Around the Corner_ , was what the name of the shop was called and even though it was Alexander _Hamilton_ ’s shop, it was named after a person he held dearly. While it sounds dumb now and he most definitely wanted to change it, it happened after she left and this was some sort of memorial and momentum of his. He sighed and shoved the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Alexander contemplated whether or not he wanted the store to open despite being a Sunday, for he was there and ready to work, but he decided against it. There was no need to always have a business and he thought, for once, he could use a break from everything. When he walked into the shop he turned on the lights and felt the dry air sucked into his lungs. Turned on the air conditioning to avoid that and then proceeded to grab a broom. He laid it on the carpet where the children would sit and he pulled the nearest bookshelf that was against the wall and pulled it to show the behind. To Alexander’s surprise, there was no disgusting green mold or bits of food. Instead, just a lot of dust and abandoned cobwebs that he could broom away, dust, and wipe down. Holding the broom firmly, he strongly swept whatever dust he managed into the dustpan for a couple minutes. 

It was quiet, the sounds of the broom sweeping and the loud blowing of the air conditioner before the quiet were interrupted by a knocking on the glass window in front of the shop. Alexander looked behind, a dark man with fluffy curls and a trimmed beard was knocking on the window. He was panting as if he ran. 

“I know you’re closed, but I desperately _need_ a book! Please!” , he yelled through the window and stopped his frantic knocking. Alexander stared for a bit before doing anything.


End file.
